6th Mistake; a delicious mistake

[moralperil]

[Mahdi addresses the screen dressed in a red apron with his name embroidered on one side: a perhaps-obviously handmade gift from a friend. The apron and his face and bare arms are smudged with flour and a few streaks of chocolate.]

Um, does anyone want cookies? I made cookies.

[Around this time you may notice that pretty much every inch of the kitchen counter is covered with foil-wrapped paper plates.]

I made a few dozen.

And a pie. Maybe two pies.

Baking is how I vent stress sometimes, I guess, um...

I guarantee these cookies will make everyone feel a bit better! So let me know if you'd like a plate, I can drop it off with you. I'll probably be leaving some at the clinic too.


[OOC: Mahdi's cookies will, miraculously, give one a lingering sense of warmth and affection for a short time, due to his powers of emotional projection.]

Comments

[perdre]

That's a pretty good way to vent.

[moralperil]

I just want to be useful. Even this probably isn't enough to get most people to smile for more than a moment, everyone likes cookies, right?

[perdre]

You know - there's a welcoming committee every month that gives out cookies. You could join them, if you haven't already-?

[moralperil]

I never thought of that! Usually I go for something a little more elaborate than cookies, but I was out of paper for cupcakes and cookies are easier to do in large batches.

[Conspiratorial whisper:] I think mine are better than the ones they hand out to new Transports anyway!

[perdre]

Are they? Maybe you should tell them that. Teach them a new recipe.

[moralperil]

They could replicate the recipes but they couldn't replicate the love!

[perdre]

Maybe it's just you they need, then!

[moralperil]

I don't know. What if they actually made me share it with them?

They're still war-makers. They still sent us to that horrible...

[Mahdi winces.]

[perdre]

[Well. That manages to wipe the smile from Peter's lips.]

I'm - I'm sure you wouldn't have to, if you didn't want to.

[moralperil]

It's more than a recipe. I probably couldn't make batches in the numbers they need for the Transports... [Mahdi looks around the room, glinting with foil-wrapped plates.] Not without a bigger oven. And maybe about two days straight.

[perdre]

Maybe just for the ones you liked, then.

[moralperil]

Well, I like everyone, so that doesn't really narrow it down.

[perdre]

You don't have a list of favorites?

[moralperil]

W-well, I'm not supposed to!

[perdre]

Why not?

omg sorry, i think my phone ate this tag days ago...

[moralperil]

Because if I love one human over others, I might distribute my blessings and affection to them alone. And that would be wrong and unfair.

no problemo!

[perdre]

Lots of people do that, though. I think it's all right.

[moralperil]

It's alright for people who don't do my job.

Liking people and loving people is great, no denying. But I'm not supposed to get that close or involved.

[Which is not the same as saying he doesn't do those things.]

[perdre]

Well, sure, I don't think anyone would blame you for that. Sounds like a - special job, though.

[moralperil]

It is! It's been complicated by being brought here, but I like to think I'm doing my best.

[perdre]

I'm sure you are.

[moralperil]

Thanks... oh, um, I didn't catch your name! I'm Mahdi.

[perdre]

[Oh- right. They haven't met like this.]

Peter.

[moralperil]

Great to meet you, Peter!

[perdre]

[a beat. He smiles.]

You too.